


The Serpent Me Beguiled

by ObliObla



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: And obviously they're the only bits Lucifer actually likes, Bible Quotes, Chloe KNOWS, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Angst, References to Paradise Lost, Religious Discussion, Seriously there's a lot of smutty things in there, Smut, Weird religious opinions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 18:05:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla
Summary: Chloe's never read the Bible before and she has questions. Lucifer has answers, but he's bad at staying on topic.





	1. To Their Ruin Now I Tend

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is rated T; the smut is in the next chapter.

“So… the Garden of Eden?” Chloe looked up from her phone; she had recently downloaded a Bible app and had taken to picking random verses and asking Lucifer about them. He hadn’t gotten bored with it. Yet.

He sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch, “Sort of…?”

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for elaboration, “Well, you’ve met Cain,” she glared at the euphemism, “and yes, Adam and Eve existed. Created simultaneously, in point of fact; the whole ‘rib’ business is all a load of rubbish.”

“And the garden?”

He dropped his phone on his lap, frustrated; Maze was beating him at Dirty Words with Friends again, “A bad translation; paradise wasn’t a place it was a… state of being. Maybe I should start at the beginning?”

“Like,” Chloe made a series of swipes on her phone, “‘In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth’ beginning?”

“Just the human entrance onto the scene; no need to cover the billions of years between the start and end of that sentence—I mean, the Earth is much younger than the universe for one; your human scientists have finally gotten than far, at least—let alone the further billions of years covered in, what was it, a solid working week?”

Chloe blinked at him, “What does a billion years even feel like…?”

“Time is… complicated, and partially a human invention; we can have that conversation if you wish, but there are a few papers on the curvature of space-time you should read first.”

“Right...”

“Basically, the most important thing to know about Adam and Eve is that they were _not_ the first humans. It’s probably also helpful to note that, as far as I know, the fossils archaeologists have found are real. Natural selection exists, evolution is a helpful, if incomplete, theory; Dad,” he shot a dirty look at the ceiling, “is not, generally speaking, a small-picture kind of a guy.”

“So humans developed without interference?”

“Not exactly. Dad wanted… well, exactly _what_ He wanted is a rather longer philosophical debate, but the gist is that He wanted _something_ besides His family that could communicate and reason. He picked your general shape off of ours; I suppose He thought it would be… simpler that way.”

“Wait… what does _He_ …?”

“Oh, mum and dad have no physical form, as it were, and no, I don’t know why this,” he gestured to himself, “is what we look like. I wasn’t there for that bit and my parents were never… sharers.

“Anyway, Dad got bored, created life; Dad got lonely, started giving natural selection some hands-on attention. Managed primates, got them to stand up, lose some hair; he got the basic shape down, then turned to brain complexity. That’s when he realized something.”

“What?”

“Basically, he could make their brains as advanced as he wished, but some things: language, abstract thought, recognition of mortality, art, society, tool-making and a certain… religiosity wouldn’t come naturally. So, about fifty thousand years ago, he created his own humans and he tasked their instruction to the archangels.”

Chloe was counting on her fingers, “So those things you mentioned all correspond to an angel?”

“Indeed. Uriel taught them to recognize patterns, the roots of science; Azrael, to understand death. Raphael engendered a social system, through his ability to heal; Gabriel taught them Enochian, so that they could speak. Amenadiel showed them how to craft, weapons, mainly; and dear old Michael put the… let’s call it the ‘fear of God’ into them.

“My task, which came last in precedence—the arts are lost on most of my siblings—was to teach them of beauty and transformation. I showed them how to sing, how to paint with simple pigments, how to sit on a riverbank and appreciate the lapping of the water and the wind in the trees.”

His voice had gone soft and wistful; Chloe was loath to interrupt this unusual mood, but she had a question, “So you didn’t… sneak in to tempt them?”

He laughed harshly, shook his head, “Oh, no. I was _commanded_ to tempt them. And, I just looked like me, no idea where the snake came from. Probably some bored randy monk who didn’t think the whole thing was phallic enough, honestly.

“I believe, actually, it’s the use of the word ‘temptation’ that confuses so many people. There is no art, no true creation, without free will. My siblings didn’t understand art because they _couldn’t_. I was… separate from them, imbued with a spark of the freedom you humans enjoy so that I could create _,_ not simply for practicality, but for beauty.

“What the great, _terrible_ temptation actually consisted of was me asking them what they wanted. And as I asked, they gained the ability to choose: free will. I don’t think my Father was expecting that,” he puffed his chest out slightly, smirking.

“So when did it… go wrong?”

He sighed, “At first, they asked for the things they were intended to: to sing, to dance, to paint, to watch the sun set; but, well, they _were_ commanded to ‘be fruitful and multiply.’”

“So, sex made them fall?”

He looked at the floor, “No, not exactly. They had already… _known_ each other quite thoroughly before I arrived. Procreation was fine.”

Chloe’s eyes widened in understanding, “It was desire.”

He smiled without humor, “Bingo, detective. One day we were appreciating how a stream smoothed the rocks in its depths to a fine sheen. I asked them, _as I was commanded_ , what they desired more than anything, and…”

“…you,” Chloe bit her lip.

Lucifer nodded, “You see, when I say ‘procreation’, I mean _solely_ procreation. They were both entirely anorgasmic. They felt no sexual desire, did not even know what it was, until that moment.

“And neither did I.”

“Wait. You didn’t…?”

“Angels do not reproduce; we have no innate impulse with regard to sex. Orientation is not a choice, but the ability to _have_ an orientation—to desire certain people or acts, or even to specifically _not_ —is part of free will. Until that moment there was no such thing as physical sexual desire, and it was that moment that caused us all to fall. The ensuing Devil’s threesome was really just window dressing.”

“But… why? What’s so wrong with all of that?”

“That’s what I asked Him, after He had me dragged back to heaven. Everything was all ‘you ruined them, you _corrupted_ them’, and then I came out with the big question: you sent me down there to give _them_ a choice, why am _I_ not allowed one?”

“And,” he shrugged, “that’s all, as they say, she wrote. I was told only to _obey_ , without question. So, I rebelled, was cast out, crash-landed in hell, etcetera. And that,” he threw his arms wide, “is the story of Adam and Eve. Had a truly bewildering number of children, mingled with the rest of the humans; the lessons they learned spread like wildfire, including,” he grinned, “my little… additions. He never was able to stamp them out.”

His smile turned filthy, “I hope you’re enjoying them.”

Chloe ignored the insinuation, “So, what exactly is the apple in this metaphor?”

Lucifer ran his tongue along his upper lip, eyes smoldering; her face heated up, “Right.”

She sat back, lost in thought as Lucifer returned to his game.

“Wait,” she turned to him, “does that mean that you invented…” she blushed furiously, then made a rather crude gesture.

Lucifer laughed, full-throated, “While I can take no credit for vaginal intercourse, the other common methods, well, let’s just say there’s a reason I’m so… talented in those areas, as _you_ well know.”

Her face was rapidly approaching beetroot levels of flushed.

Lucifer smirked, “Would you like some fig leaves to cover your nakedness, darling?”

“You are not seriously gonna try dirty talking with Bible quotes.”

“If I was going to, there are much better books to draw from than Genesis. Hmm, let me think…”

“No,” Chloe stared at him, disbelieving, as he turned toward her, fingers running up her leg, “you are not actually going to do this, plus,” she shook her head, quivers sliding down her spine, “I thought you hated the damn thing? Surely you don’t have it memorized…” she trailed off, pressing into his touch.

He leaned over her; his voice was low and sweet, “Your lips are threads of scarlet, and I crave the taste of your mouth. You are perfect, love; you have no flaw,” he kissed behind her ear; she gasped, “You have ravished my heart with but a glance. How beautiful is your love, sweeter than wine; and your scent,” he drew in a shaky breath, “better than any spice.”

“Oh, _Hell_ …” she panted.

He caught her mouth with his lips, their tongues entwining; he broke away, whispering raggedly into her ear, “Your lips drip with honey and there is honey under your tongue; open to me, my love.”

They lost themselves in each other for a long moment; he pulled back, stood and held out a hand, “Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death,” she leapt up into his arms.

“I love you too,” she breathed against his lips.

 “My beloved is mine, and I am hers,” he whispered, carrying her upstairs.


	2. To Taste of Pleasure

He tossed her gently onto her bed.

Chloe giggled, “You are not keeping up that quoting stuff; it was… nice, but I refuse to blush every time I see a Bible.”

Lucifer pouted, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, “But darling, I haven’t even gotten to the part where you sit under my tree and eat of my fruits!”

“That sounds… oddly explicit,” Chloe pulled her shirt over her head, “what do all the priests say about that?”

“I believe many of them consider that particular book a metaphor,” Lucifer was removing his pants, “for the relationship between my supposed half-brother and their Church.”

Chloe paused, jeans around her knees, “Wait… _eww_.”

Lucifer hummed in agreement, crawling up the bed, “Poor repressed bastards. But, I think you wanted to stop with the Bible talk?”

“Yeah,” Chloe helped him take her pants the rest of the way off, “I was sort of hoping for a… demonstration of, you know…”

“Well, for accuracy, I think I’d need another man, love. Would you like to call Daniel? Or I’m sure I could find someone beautiful and _ever_ so willing—”

She interrupted him by shoving his face onto her thighs; he made a muffled noise of mild protest.

“I think you can make do with just me,” she felt him smile against her leg. He licked delicately up the crease of her knee; she shivered.

He shifted, sliding forward, and rested his chin on her hip, “I believe the first thing that happened was that she smelled, suddenly, so lovely that I went to my knees before her,” he pitched his voice upward, making his voice shake in faux hesitancy, “oh beautiful creation of God, your scent is of the sea after a storm; would you permit me to taste you?”

She parted her legs in invitation, a thrill running up her spine as she moved, his feigned inexpertise surprisingly arousing. He brushed his lips sweetly over her skin, before pressing a kiss to her underwear; he licked at her, steadily, through the cotton. He had, apparently, decided that their game did not extend to him actually pretending at incompetence, and a cry was drawn from her as her pulse throbbed against his tongue.

He hooked his fingers into the elastic, baring her to him, before he settled over her. He dragged himself up her body, helping her remove her bra, before softly biting at her skin. He licked his way up between her breasts, kissing the hollow of her throat. He moaned lowly, the vibration spreading down her chest. Her blush, which hadn’t abated, followed it.

He smiled at the sight, lifting himself up on one arm; he took her breast into his hand, massaging gently, “Sweet child,” his voice still in that imitation of nervousness, “you seem flushed.”

She murmured indistinctly. His thumb ran teasingly over her nipple; she arched into his hand, breaths quickening.

“Is, is that… pleasing to you?” his eyes gleamed with mirth, but he maintained the illusion. He removed his hand, licked the pad of his thumb, and repeated the motion, stroking across her chest. Her voice was rough, “That… that’s lovely, Lu—”

“Samael,” he interrupted, quietly, “my name wa… _is_ Samael.” He flinched away from her gaze, returning his attention to her chest; he took her other nipple into his mouth, biting carefully.

“Lu… Sa…” she groaned; he hummed against her and she bucked into air. “Shit! I… I need…”

He kissed over her ribs and down her stomach, pausing briefly to nip at her navel, before settling, again, between her legs.

He caressed the bottom of her slit before licking upward. His tongue flicked her clit; she shivered. He stroked her inner walls. She sighed, one hand grasping her breast while the other grabbed at his hair, teasing the curls free.

He slid forward a little more and nuzzled against her; she pulled on his hair, he moaned into her.

He withdrew, eyes meeting hers, his lips glistening, “You taste of fire and starlight,” his voice was dark and warm. She couldn’t tell if he was acting anymore; she didn’t care. “Your touch scorches my soul,” he massaged her clit for a moment, “I would gladly burn in you.”

Her hand fell from his hair to his shoulder, urging him upward. Her taste on his lips made her groan, biting at him as he pushed his underwear down.

Her fingers slipped down to tease him and he licked at the roof of her mouth, eyelashes fluttering.

“Your…” he panted, “your lips tear down everything I pretend to be.”

She guided him into her, shuttering as he pressed forward slowly. His arms shook with his ardor as he buried his face into her pillow, whispering into her ear, “I am bared before you; naked under your gaze.”

He began a slow rhythm as she drew her fingers across his back; he whined, brokenly, into her ear. She clenched around him; fingernails digging into his flesh.

“Oh darling,” he nipped at her earlobe, breathing heavily, “you see me for who I truly am.”

He pulled back, meeting her eyes as he sped up his rhythm, “My sweet, my love, I shatter at your fingertips, but you make me whole again.”

“I…” she gasped, hands coming up to frame his face as his fingers slid down to press into her, “I won’t let you fall.”

She barely knew what she was saying; his thumb was kneading rough circles into her as he throbbed and pulsed. He leapt, dragging them both over the edge.

But she caught him, cradled against her, as they landed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written smut before, so I hope it was ok.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
